


the human face a furnace sealed

by labicheramure



Series: Hatchling [2]
Category: Kamen Rider OOO
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-02
Updated: 2014-10-10
Packaged: 2018-02-03 02:16:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1727420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/labicheramure/pseuds/labicheramure
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The bird is by far the cleverest among them, and thus the most dangerous.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. der vogel

 

The bird is by far the cleverest among them, and thus the most dangerous.

~~~'v'~~~

It follows His Highness like a carrion bird, relishing the barest scraps of praise as a feast. It is pleased with so little, for a creature of desire. When the other beasts play games with humans for their food, it waits to take the leftovers of their bounty, or else kills the creature on its own. Like a child, it hides in the King's shadow when its fellows come to take back their robbed meal. He protects it, perhaps because he thinks it clever.

Of all of them, only the bird has spoken to me. While the others are content to entertain themselves in the villages, it stays in the castle, taking the form of a young man, sitting high and sullen in windows, on staircases. It playacts at being human for His Highness' benefit, and talks with me when he decides himself too busy to bother.

  
"My name is Ankh," it (or he, I suppose His Highness called it he) said to me one day, apropos of absolutely nothing.

 

"Oh?" I answered. "Was His Highness pleased enough with you to give you a name?"

 

The bird frowned, the expression childlike and nearly cute on his delicate face.

 

"We all have names, even that ugly Kazali." He tilted his head thoughtfully, and smiled. "He is pleased with me, though. He says I am beautiful. More beautiful than you, even."

 

I laughed, sounding unpleasant to my own ears. It should have been no surprise at all, that the King would find a monster more lovely than his own wife.

 

~~~'v'~~~

 

Ankh lays on the back of the King's throne when he has court, glaring at anyone who dares step too close, or try to tell His Highness something he doesn't want to hear. When there are no more visitors, he snaps to attention, and, like a released raptor bird, goes to hunt down whichever rat he is asked to kill. I have seen him returning at night,  a deeper red than when he left, happily accepting the dregs of the King's affection as if it were a thousand of the medals he lives on.

 

The servants have taken to calling him the King's mistress, a title he accepts proudly, not realizing he is being mocked. I doubt if he knows half of what it means. Perhaps he thinks it makes him someone with an importance to rival mine. He was never going to be satisfied with only being the favorite among His Highness' war monsters.

 

"What are you here for?" He follows me on my walks, sometimes. Whether he is put up to it or merely bored, I cannot say.

 

"I could ask you the same thing."

 

"I'm here because I'm useful," he said, with a child's pride and matter-of-factness. "He says so. I'm more useful than any of the others. What are you used for?"

 

"Companionship." I tossed my head and walked several steps ahead of him, quite unwilling to explain the details of marriage to someone like Ankh. "I stay next to His Highness, and talk to him."

 

"I do that too, though." I smiled.

 

"You must not be doing very well, then, if he still needs me."

 

~~~'v'~~~

 

"What is he to you?" I asked the King, last night as we prepared to retire to our separate rooms.

 

"What is who to me?" He feigned ignorance, as always.

 

"The bird. Ankh."

 

His Highness smiled, as he does when he thinks he is winning some fight that only exists in his head. He does not know how to speak to those he cannot persuade to either fight him or cower like a dog, so he pretends I am both.

 

"Do you envy him? I have seen Ankh far more than I've seen you, lately." That's why I do not envy him, but I said nothing. "You don't need to. I've spoken to the doctor. You're carrying something far more important than a cluster of medals right now."

 

He reached for my stomach and I flinched away, as if his hand would burn me. Outside the window, a red shape moved and vanished. I waited to hear his fading call before I spoke.

 

"That's right," I said, smiling like a church Madonna. "I'm so glad that Your Highness thinks so."

 

~~~'v'~~~

 

Tonight, Ankh tried to kill me. I have been waiting for it ever since that night, and he has surprised me by waiting this long. He is such a strange thing among the beasts they call Greed. He waits, and he considers. He took walks with me every day, quiet as the grave, but not menacing. More a curious crow than a waiting vulture. Was he trying to learn about me to know the best time to strike? Could he have been driven by curiosity, instead of envy?

 

Because I was more curious, because I very nearly pitied the thing, I went out at sunset, took a path past the gates, through the groves of evergreens, up to a place where the stones were large and rough, and the wind sang fierce against them. Below me, the cold sea pressed into the cliffside, the waning sun turning it red. Inside me, a tiny creature stirred to life, as if in complaint at the chill. I watched the sky as it turned pink, and I waited.

 

He came from above me like a blow from a hot iron. He knocked me to the ground, burned deep red marks into my neck as he dug his half-human fingers into it. My vision blurred, yet his face remained clear to me. Only his mouth could express more than a bird's blank stare, but his mouth, twisted in rage and fear, was all he needed. He pressed harder, and I grew dizzy, delirious. I reached up to toy with the peacock feathers on his chest, and I laughed.

 

"It would have been easier," I said, speaking in choked, stolen breaths. "To just knock me off the cliff. What do you think will happen when I am found blue with claw marks on my throat?"

 

"I'll burn you up," Ankh said fiercely. "I'll make sure there's nothing left of you or your eggs." I smiled, smoothed my hand over the down around his neck, watched him flinch.

 

"Then go ahead and do it. Don't you want to be His Highness' most precious thing?"

 

He gave a terrible cry, but he did not kill me. Instead, he tossed me aside as if I had burned him instead, holding his arm against his chest like he was nursing a wound. Ah, I wondered, as my breath returned to me. Is this what it looks like when a Greed's heart is breaking?

 

"I am precious," he said, staring out at the castle. "He said I was. He said the only thing that made you important was the chick growing in you. He said you were just a plain-looking brood hen!"

 

He said these things to hurt me, but it was nothing I didn't already know. The King never wanted to marry me, and nor I him. I knew this, three years ago when I was sent here as a peace offering to the man who had set his sights on conquering everything his greedy eyes could see. I knew this, when he took my home anyway. I know this, preparing to birth my child into a cage.

 

"For a creature that wants so much, you hesitate to take it." I spat the words like snake's venom, sick of watching the beast drive himself to a jealous rage over the man I hated so. "Go ahead! Rid yourself of this ugly brood hen!"

 

He still did not kill me. Instead, he stared a long moment, then stood up, striding slowly, slowly toward me.

 

"You... want to die, don't you?"

 

One by one, after Ankh began speaking to me, the other Greed all came and asked me what I desired. Of all of them, of anyone, only he has ever guessed it, and only then, at the edge of the cliff that would have made it so easy.

 

"You grant people's wishes, right?" I said. "Then hear mine. Kill me!"

 

He wrapped his firebrand claws around my neck. He lifted me up until my toes brushed the ground, until I could not see his face, only the sky. As my breath faded, even this vanished. All I had was the sound of the ocean, the fire around my throat, and the life inside me, growing strangely, peacefully still.

 

~~~'v'~~~

 

I lost awareness, but I did not die. For a long while, I could hear and not see, could feel the wind, but not my own body. I was cold. There were monsters speaking, somewhere close by.

 

"Oh my, my, Ankh. You've certainly done it this time, haven't you? What ever shall His Highness say?"

 

Ankh did not speak. I could only hear, but I could tell that Ankh did not move, either.

 

"Someone will have to get him," said a voice like a lady trying to sing underwater. The fish woman. "Ah, what a mess she is!"

 

"She's not dead," Ankh choked out. "Don't tell him, please..."

 

"Too late." A smug, lazy voice. The cat. "He thought you might try something like this, so he sent us on ahead. Looks like we were just in time for poor Milady."

 

"Poor Milady," the fish woman repeated. Slimy hands pulled me into a sitting position. One gently ran along my neck. "Are you alright? You feel so warm here."

 

I flinched away from her, stumbling to my knees, staying there a moment while I summoned the strength to stand. My legs shook with the effort of holding me up. My chest heaved, but I was still and blank-eyed, like a hen on the chopping block. Behind me, Ankh did not breathe at all.

"Ankh." The King stood in the shadows of the evergreen path, flanked by the last two of his monsters, the bug and the gray beast. Ankh seemed to flinch at the sight of him, but His Highness' face was as empty as ever. The face of a vessel, who had traded his humanity for an insatiable hunger.

I opened my mouth without knowing what I was going to say, so instead I coughed, spitting out bits of burning bile onto the rocks. My throat hurt every time it was moved. I felt the King's eyes on me, dispassionately cataloguing my pitiful state, as if it were no more than an inconvenience to him.

"Your Highness," Ankh said, quiet and plaintive as a little dove. His fireght gaze flittered about the sunset air, refusing to settle on the King that was walking toward him, ever silent and heavy. He stayed on his knees, drawing inward as His Highness stood over him, as animals do, when they want to make themselves smaller. "I..."

"Quiet, Ankh," said the King. The immovable authority in his voice was enough to frighten even me. His eyes passed over the figure at his feet with stony contempt. "I am very disappointed in you."

 

Ankh stared up at him as if searching for sympathy, and, finding none, hung his head low and penitent. His claws dug lines in the damp earth, reaching for an anchor to keep from unfurling. The others crowded in and circled him like scavenging beasts.

 

"He needs to be punished, right, Highness?" The cat's eyes shone with barely suppressed glee. The King turn his marble-white face to him, unimpressed.

 

"He does, but he's not being thrown in for you to eat, so you may step back, Kazali. That goes for the rest of you as well."

 

The Greed reluctantly obeyed, as Ankh near shivered in relief. The King kneeled in front of him, grabbing him by the human part of his half-human face. There was a flicker of red light, and he appeared in his human disguise. The better to plead with, I thought in disgust as I watched him wrap thin fingers around His Highness' wrist.

 

"Please," he said, turning wide eyes to the King's face. "I didn't mean to do anything you didn't want. I only wanted to rid you of an inconvenience."

 

With barely a flick of his wrist, the King knocked Ankh's frail human form to the ground. There was something sickly like a smile in his cold face.

 

"Your clever beak will not broker your escape this time, Ankh. This time, I want one of your medals."

 

At that time, during that night, I did not yet understand what the medals were, and what they meant. The only thing I knew was that Ankh stared up at His Highness with the most terribly stricken look on his youth's face, as though he had been asked to reach between his ribs and pull out his beating heart. Now, holding the thing in my hand, feeling its trembling warmth, I know that this is exactly what His Highness asked.

 

"No," he whimpered, scrambling to his feet, preparing to run until the King grabbed him by his thin wrist, yanking him back until he fell against his chest. He was still a moment, and then, with a short, awful cry, began to struggled wildly, like a trapped beast. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, please don't! Anything else! Anything but that!"

 

The King was still as a mountain. He reached up and, gingerly, as one does with a spooked horse, pet Ankh's head, making his small form heavy with breath, so frightened that his body simply surrendered for the rest of him.

 

"You're making this very hard, Ankh. I don't want to hurt you, but I cannot let you have the strength to hurt Milady either." His hand slid over Ankh's shoulders; to comfort him, but also to hold him still. He spoke quietly, softly. "I thought you were different from the others. I thought you were less selfish, I thought you wanted to make me happy."

 

His Highness knew he'd won as soon as he lay his hand on him, but it still seemed to please him when Ankh went still, looking up at him with the grim eyes of a man at the gallows. The King raised his hand, and I closed my eyes.

 

When I was very young, my family kept swans in the garden, letting the tamer ones pick at seeds in my hand as I giggled in delight. Their children, the less tame ones, had the joints on their wings neatly broken so they could not fly away. The sound Ankh made, the sound I could not block out, was like the near-mute cries of those cygnets. Small and desperate, the call of a thing forced to live after losing something essential.

 

Ankh was on the ground when I opened my eyes, curled in on himself, his half-made skin left open to the night air. A pile of little silver medals was gathered on his lap. I had seen the others press them into themselves, but he made no move to gather them back inside his body. He did not seem to notice they were there. He did not seem to notice anything. When the King went to take him into his arms, he fell against him like a doll.

 

"There," he said. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"

 

~~~'v'~~~

 

My son rests peacefully in my arms, but I never sleep, these days. His Highness grows strange and secretive, forever downstairs in meetings with the alchemists as I raise the child he claimed was so much more important than his Greed. Without him, they grow bored and restless, making their fun in the villages or the servants' quarters. Even Ankh seems to be resorting to catching his dinner in the ordinary way.

 

Being half-alive things, the Greed are terribly fascinated with the small new life their master has made. Even the ones who took no interest in me before will corner me in the hallways to take a look at him. The cat and the beetle, once they realized they  could make no medals from him, grew tired quickly. I had to swat away the gray beast as he prodded at him, as if trying to ascertain that he was made of the same thing humans were. I think myself lucky that he is such an agreeable idiot. Most terrible is the fish woman, who follows me and asks to hold him, who stands and coos over his cradle if he is left alone too long.

 

Ankh is obviously curious, but he will not come close. Instead, he stays in his human form and watches from a distance, his hawk's eyes careful and vigilant. He knows something the others do not, I think. He seems secure in his position above them, and above me. Sometimes he smiles at me like a child with a secret, and I wonder what he would say about His Highness' meetings with the alchemists.

 

The last time the King deigned to visit me, I asked him why he made the Greed.

 

"They are such miserable creatures," I said. "Why create a thing, only to leave it incomplete?"

 

He smiled.

 

"There is power in desire. Perhaps even infinite power. Incomplete, they forever crave, and forever press harder to obtain the thing they want. There is a strength in that that cannot be measured."

 

"I would rather be complete and powerless," I said. "Than that." The King laughed.

 

"I expected that answer of you. Someone like you will never understand, because you are empty. You have no desires of your own."

 

I thought of the warm red thing still hidden under my pillow. I thought of my child, his goose-down hair turning bright in the moonlight, as he slept.

 

"That's right. There is nothing anyone could give me that would be satisfying."

 

~~~'v'~~~

 

I met him at the cliff. It was warm and bright outside, too bright to see without shielding my eyes. I held a blanket over my son's eyes, to protect him from that and the wind. He fussed at being covered, his small hands making fists against my nightdress. I let him hide his face in my shawl, and he settled, quiet and content. Complete and powerless.

 

"It's grown," Ankh said, shimmering into the shape of a youth behind me. He peered over my arms. "It's almost fat."

 

"Babies eat a lot." He frowned, settling on a rock.

 

"So, what did you call me for? Were you mad that I didn't come to marvel at your little grub like the rest of them?"

 

"I don't want to die," I said, quiet, watching the swirl of seafoam below me. "I never wanted to die."

 

"I know." He looked out, past the horizon, as if he could see beyond it. "You want that, right?"

 

I tried to see beyond it, to see what he saw, but the sun was too much for my eyes. The shape it made when I closed them was like the black point of a bird's blank gaze. Ankh did not watch like a bird, now. He was more like the young man he dressed as, closed off, yet open enough that his skin was still soft. From this distance, I could see the scattered freckles across his cheeks.

 

"Can you get it for me?"

 

"Of course. I'm a Greed. I'm the only one who can give shape to a desire like yours." He stood and approached, tossing one of those little silver coins in the air. It landed his palm, and, before I could flinch, was pressed into my head. For a moment, the world went blank. Then, like a spark of lightning, of creation, it opened up wide, as vast as the place Ankh saw, beyond the horizon.

 

I felt the wind, I heard the beating of great wings, and then I was mounted on a bird the size of a bull; sharp eyed and sharp-bodied. Any minute, it would take off.

 

"How far can it take me?" I asked.

 

"As far as your desire goes." He smiled. "You could be up there forever."

 

  
"I might like that."

 

  
The bird under me scratched impatiently. My desire saw no reason in lingering here. Before it could go, I grabbed Ankh's wrist and yanked him forward, pressing my small red thing into his palm. Something delicate and human lit him up as it sunk into his body. I saw no wings on him, but I heard them, perhaps in both of our heads. As the thing finally took off, I heard him on the wind, speaking in what was barely a murmur.

 

  
"I might like that, too."

 


	2. eine schwester

 

Eiji's  earliest memory was of South Africa. Wind whipped against his face as they sailed into  Capetown , his sister balancing him on her hip, finally giving him her hat when he complained about the sun too much. When they landed, it blew off, and he took off chasing it into the crowd, his toddler's legs carrying him surprisingly fast, according to Grandpa. But, Grandpa said, Rei ran much faster, trying to get him back.  Eiji  never told him that he never remembered a Rei like that.

The Rei he knew, growing older, his days filling with more black tie lunches than boats, pulled him in line behind her and their older brother as they were sized up by strangers. Sit still, sit still, his sister always said. Smile for people, don't cry, and they'll give you whatever you want. From the time he was very small,  Eiji  learned that a simple smile was enough to give him the world. What he didn't know, not then, was what to do with it.

He wouldn't learn that for a long time.

0|0|0

It was storming when  Kougami  called  Eiji  and  Hina , and only them, up to his office. Just that was almost enough to keep him at home.  Chiyoko  needed him to help her clean up all the mud that had been tracked in, and Ankh reacted to storms like most birds; by holing up in the driest place he could find, and reacting to wetness or the suggestion of wetness like its existence was a personal offense. When  Eiji  told him he was going out, his only response was to promise that he would not be let into their room until after he had a shower. He didn't exactly find this fair, but  Satonaka  was honking in her nondescript black sedan outside, so he didn't argue.

"You wouldn't happen to know what this was about, would you?"  Hina  asked as he ducked into the car.  Eiji  shrugged.

" Kougami  hasn't contacted us since he gave Ankh that ID saying he was from New Zealand," he said. "Miss  Satonaka , do you know why he's calling us, and not Ankh?"

"All I know is that it has something to do with that ancient king." She spoke in the voice she got when something was too far outside her job description to bother with. "A document, I guess. Something you read. Honestly, all I did was scan it."

"Couldn't it be important?"  Eiji  swore he could hear  Satonaka  shrugging dismissively.

"If it was really important, he would have called  Gotou ," she said. "But he's still texting me trying to get me to help him set up Skype, so. Don't worry too much."

He wasn't reassured in the slightest, but then again, it was hard to find anything  Satonaka  said in her bored, phoning-in tone reassuring.

"I guess we'll find out when we get there,"  Hina  said uneasily. "I wonder why we were told not to take Ankh, though?"

"Who knows?"  Eiji  said, but he did, or at least he had an idea. If the document had to do with the first OOO, then it had to do with the Ankh from 800 years ago as well. The Ankh that this one wanted to hide so much that he wouldn't have traded his story, even for medals, if  Eiji  hadn't made him.  Kougami  probably didn't want to risk him trying to get rid of more remnants of his previous life. The thing was, he wasn't so sure that Ankh would be in the wrong, doing that.

His Grandpa used to say there were two things that could change the world instantly. There was war.

"Ankh probably does," said  Satonaka .

And there was knowledge.

0|0|0

Eiji  and  Hina  didn't return by closing, which meant that Ankh was dragged downstairs to help  Chiyoko  clean, with the promise that, if he didn't complain, she would bring him mango ice in the morning. Having carefully considered the options, he obeyed, wiping crumbs off the tables as she mopped up the mud and cooed over what a good job he was doing.

"I'm not, you know," he said, dropping his rag on the final table as he settled into the nearest chair. "I'm not even trying." She smiled in that annoying, patient way of hers.

"You're doing it, though, aren't you? And you're not complaining."

Only because he wanted the ice cream. And because the smiles she gave him, soft and sweet, like she was his mother, made him a little sick, sometimes. He would rather finish this quickly and go upstairs, where he could shower and sleep and see no faces at all, not even his own.

"Whatever." Ankh leaned his chair back, carefully balancing it on two legs. "Can I go now?"

"You don't want to wait up for  Eiji ?"

"He's just at  Kougami's , right? Even he can't get himself into that much trouble, while he's there."

"Ah, I guess you're right,"  Chiyoko  said. She twirled her mop thoughtfully. "You know, I still have no clue what they do up there."

"That makes two of us."

She tried to smile again, but then she caught the look on his face, and began wheeling the mop and bucket away. He watched in silence as she gathered up the rest of the cleaning supplies, sneaking strange, pitying looks at him when she thought he wasn't paying attention. He let her. If she was stupid enough to know the truth and still look at him like that, it was her business. He could hate her smiles quietly, if it got her and  Eiji  to leave him be.

He leaned back a little further, looking at the clock behind him. It was almost 7:30.  Kougami  had kept them for two hours, almost three. Much longer than any time Ankh had gone to listen to him blather. He reached into his pocket for his phone, thumb poised to swipe and unlock it.  Hina  and  Eiji  had changed his background again, this time to a picture they had taken of him sleeping. His legs were crossed at the ankles, pulled up tight into his chest. His arms covered his face.  Eiji  said it was cute, and he hit him with his phone.  Hina  asked him what he was protecting himself from.

"Worried?" Ankh sighed, more annoyed at himself than  Chiyoko .

"There's no good reason to be."

"You don't need a good reason when it's your family."

Family. He turned the word over in his head, testing it, feeling it. Looking for the reason why it made his chest feel like it was bruised on the inside. It wasn't a safe word, he decided. Not yet. Not for him.

Chiyoko  was watching him again, pretending not to. He couldn't decide what sort of face she was making, so he was nice, and ignored it. She wiped down the bar. She wiped down the barstools, the register, the center table, until all her rags were brown with dust and old wood polish. While he checked the local  bbs  forums for anything unusual, she vanished into the kitchen, returning a few minutes later with a steaming mug and what looked like a glass of milk with ice in it. Without asking, she pulled up a chair and sat next to him.

"They're fine," he said. She touched his back, just barely.

"I think they'll be happy, though. Knowing that you waited for them."

Ankh was quiet. Slowly, slowly,  Chiyoko  reached up and brushed a lock of hair out of his face. It felt nice.

"Don't." His throat felt dry. She froze, let it fall. She looked like he'd told her it hurt.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I know that--"

"You know that I'm a Greed. Not whatever pathetic thing you thought I was. Not someone to feel sorry for."

Chiyoko  took a long, contemplative drink. Her fingers were red around the mug. Probably still too hot, he thought.

"That word doesn't really mean much to me." She set her mug down, half drained. "Greed. It's just an ugly word people use to punish themselves, I think. I know it's bad to be too attached to worldly possessions, but whenever someone tells me that, you know what? It just makes me want more!  I'm a really selfish person, so how can I blame you for it when you were brought up that way?"

"I wasn't brought up," Ankh said, quiet, shifting uncomfortably. He didn't want to talk about this. He wanted to make her leave. "You know that."

For a moment, she looked like she was going to say something else. She looked as if she was trying to discern him, to open him up without making him tell her anything. He could appreciate the effort, maybe, if it wasn't him she was trying to sort out. There were things even  Eiji  had no business knowing. He was saved by a heavy knock on the door that made both of them jump, and sent  Chiyoko  rushing to answer it. Ankh was immediately put ill at ease.  Eiji  wouldn't knock like that. Her small gasp upon seeing their guest confirmed it.

"I'm very sorry ma'am, we're closed for the night."

"I know," said the young woman. She was smartly dressed, with small, glittery things dangling at her ears, and a frown that, to Ankh, looked just a bit too familiar. "I'm looking for Hino  Eiji . Is he home?"

"And who are you?" he said, standing up.  Chiyoko  hurried the woman inside, taking her coat and umbrella with practiced ease that even he had to admit was a little impressive. The young woman looked at him like he was a particularly interesting zoo animal, then turned back to  Chiyoko .

"My name is Hino Rei." She reached into her bag to take a look at her phone. "It's already eight. Is  Eiji  still not back yet?"

"He's gone to a meeting with, ah, a former employer of sorts," said  Chiyoko . "Are you his sister?"

"Yes." Hino Rei seemed surprised. "Did he mention me?" Ankh sneered, going up to set his half-full cup on the bar.

"Of course not, he's never mentioned any of you. He might as well have hatched from an egg."

"Ankh!" Rei seemed unfazed. As if she'd heard it so much, it lost all meaning.

"It's fine," she said, turning to give him a nasty look that only superficially resembled a smile.  "You're  Eiji's  friend, right? The one who lives in this restaurant without doing any work."

Chiyoko's  face turned a little dangerous. Her hands were curled into white fists beneath her apron. It took Ankh a few moments to realize that she was offended for his sake. Somehow, that made him angrier, and he wasn't sure at whom. Neither of them had any right, he thought. He stepped between them, matching Rei's nasty grin with one of his own.

"That's right. Is there a problem with that?"

Rei smiled thinly.

"I suppose not."

"Ah, Ankh,"  Chiyoko  said, not breaking eye contact with Rei as she gently herded him toward the stairs. He let her. He was tired anyway. "Thank you for your help earlier. How about you wait for  Eiji  upstairs?"

" Mn ."

He was halfway up when he heard the big door swing open a second time. The sounds of rain poured in and cut out in the same instance. He knew the sound of those boots. He'd heard those whiny sighs way too many times before. He knew exactly who it was, but he still took the two steps needed to go down and look.

"Ah,"  Eiji  said, with a smile that had emptied itself out on purpose. "It's nice to see you, Rei."

0|0|0

Satonaka  served them red velvet cake when they got upstairs. The icing was white, piped with thin red lines that curled up into a familiar feather shape. Unlike most of his cakes, there was no lettering, only a over-iced cookie, shaped like an ankh. It ended up on  Eiji's  plate, stuck up in his slice like a gravestone. He carefully removed it and set it aside, but he still found himself prodding aimlessly at his cake when  Kougami  came in, carrying a large, ornate box and beaming with his usual manic grin.

"Hino  Eiji ! Izumi  Hina ! Thank you for accepting my invitation on such short notice!"

Eiji  smiled and bowed without thinking.  Kougami  always made him uneasy, or at least off-balance, but everything that had happened, and then the three months of silence afterward, there something about his smile that made him regret coming. It was the kind of smile the President tended to get when delivering news that only he thought was good.

"Ah, it's no problem," said  Hina , a little awkwardly. She had only been here once before, when he called her and her brother and explained that Ankh was now their estranged cousin, come to Japan after his parents overseas got into legal trouble. That Ankh couldn't point out his supposed birthplace on a map was considered irrelevant. "Can I ask why you didn't invite Ankh, though?"

"An excellent question!"  Eiji  jumped. The President's sudden bouts of shouting were something he never got used to, even last year. "And one that has everything to do with the contents of this box.  Satonaka !"

  
She crossed the room in only a few strides, neatly taking the box from  Kougami's  hands and setting it in front of the two of them. Without hesitation, without ceremony, she took an ancient-looking key and popped it open, revealing a thick, filthy  leatherbound  book, strangely damp, as if it had been in water for a long time. On the cover, crude, sunk in lettering gave shape to a word  Eiji  he could only recognize as not English or French.

" Der  Vogel ,"  Satonaka  said, with perfect inflection. " The Bird . The President recovered it on his last trip to Germany."

"I thought you said you didn't know anything about it?" She rolled her eyes.

"I said I hadn't really read it  closely . I was with him when it was excavated, so of course I know where it's from."

"The same cistern where I recovered Ankh's sleeping body,"  Kogami  said. "It seems there were many people before me who had the desire to learn all they could about the Greed. And so too were those who wanted it to remain a closed box forever. That's why, even now, we know so little about the king from 800 years ago."

A closed box.  Eiji  thought of the purple medals, of the ornate stone circle in which they were found. He thought of Ankh, stubbornly unwilling to talk about the king, even with cell medals on the table. Two things could change the world, Grandpa said. War and knowledge.

"The King and his people used a German dialect that was only spoken in the small region that he originally ruled over."  Satonaka  scrolled impatiently through her tablet for the rest of what was clearly her script. "Because of his conquest, most of those people were wiped out. It took the foundation six months to translate this book because there were no other sources to compare it to."

"The author of the book herself is an  unknown ,"  Kougami  said, speaking the last word in impressively terrible English. "The only thing that confirms her existence is what's written in here. If we take that as truth, then she was the first OOO's young wife."

"He was married?"  Eiji  asked. He knew that few people weren't back then, but somehow the idea of the king being married was strange, almost wrong. It gave him a kind of uneasy feeling, thinking about Ankh's face when he talked about him.

"He has descendants."  Santonaka  gave a quick look back at the President, who grinned.  Hina  and  Eiji  shared a nervous look. They both already knew about him, but that didn't make it any less disconcerting. "Hey, it's 6:15 now. Can I go?"

"Certainly, Miss  Satonaka . I'll take it from here." Without giving anyone a second look, she turned her tablet off and gathered her things from the couch, blithely swiping  Eiji's  ankh cookie and sticking it between her teeth.

"Ah,  Satonaka ."  Hina  held her hand up like an impatient schoolgirl. Something like a smile appeared briefly in the lines of  Satonaka's  mouth. "You still haven't told us why Ankh wasn't invited."

"This book is about him," she said, blunt and, for some reason, frustrated. She reached behind the President and grabbed a pair of staple-bound books from his desk. On each of them, the kanji for bird stood out in bold print. "There are things in here that only he knows, probably. Things he wouldn't tell either of you in a million years."

"You..."  Eiji  stared at her.  Satonaka  had an expression he'd never seen before, her unshakable calm traded for something nearly, no, completely serious. "You did read it."

"Yeah, I lied. I can do that. Anyway, you two are here because the President wants to give you the chance to read the book for yourselves. I just wanted to let you know that, before you did." She whirled around and stepped into the elevator without looking back. "Have a good night, everyone."

For a solid minute, no one said anything.

" Satonaka , why?" said the President forlornly. "I wanted to be the one to tell them."


	3. die Ehrlichkeit

Ankh wasn't sure what kept him at the end of the stairs. He was tired, and he wanted to take a shower. Whatever that woman said, he didn't want to hear, yet he was rooted to the place he was perched, watching  Eiji , waiting for his human face to slip back into place. But that smile, so well-practiced, wouldn't budge.

" Eiji ." Rei spoke in the careful, patient tone he'd heard parents used to scold their children. "Why were you out so late?"

"I had to get groceries," he said, quickly setting his bags down on the counter. From behind him, Ankh could see the tense set of his shoulders, the way his hands anchored themselves to the bar. He wondered when he began to notice these thing. "I forgot the list, so, ah, sorry if I missed anything,  Chiyoko ." He bowed, but she quickly gave him a push back up.

"Don't worry about it, dear. We can always go tomorrow."

"That's right," Rei said, her fake smile a mirror of  Eiji's . "You must be so tired, Ms.  Shirashi . How about you go home for the night? I'm sure  Eiji  can take care of the rest on his own."

"No, that's -" Ankh couldn't see  Eiji's  face, but he could see  Chiyoko's , done in lines of frustration, and, for some reason, just a little fear. She let out a long, quiet sigh. "I'll... see you tomorrow,  Eiji . Try not to stay up too late."

A heavy atmosphere that even Ankh could feel fell over the room as  Chiyoko  gathered her purse and raincoat in silence. Neither Rei nor  Eiji  looked at her. When she looked back, holding the door open for a long moment, he made the deliberate effort to look away. Ankh knew this, because instead,  Eiji  turned around to look at him. His face was still carefully blank, but at least, he thought, he wasn't smiling anymore.

"I guess I should be glad you're not living in public parks anymore." Rei circled the room slowly, eyeing the decorations as if they were somehow a personal insult to her. She stopped and looked him up and down. "Though you still dress like it."

"Ah, are you in town long, Rei?"  Eiji  said, hands folded neatly in front of him, ready to be offered in apology for absolutely nothing. "You didn't come here just to see me, did you? That's kind of a long drive, from Tokyo."

" Eiji ." He flinched, took a long breath.

"How did you find me?"

"This place," she said, still frowning at, apparently, the entire concept of  Cous Coussier . "There was an article about it in July. You were wearing a lei."

"Ah. Luau day."

"Yes." She sniffed. "I contacted the magazine and spoke with the article's author. He said you lived in the restaurant's attic with another young man names Ankh. I met him tonight, by the way."

He should really be upstairs, he thought. He should take  Eiji  and go up, should throw his nasty sister back out into the rain. Whatever Hino Rei would say was something he had already heard many times, from many different people. There was no novel insult she could give him.

"He really cares about you, doesn't he,  Eiji ?"

Eiji's  smile wasn't the same as the fake one. There was something sweet and real in the curve of his mouth, a flush to his cheeks that couldn't be explained as early autumn chill. His eyes, though, were wide and hurt, scared, almost. They fluttered over to rest on Ankh. He dug his blunted nails into the fabric of his jeans. What right did he have, to look at him like that?

"I don't know," he said, looking pointedly away from Ankh. "I hope he wasn't rude. But he knows about what happened in Africa, you know. So if he was..."

"It's my fault, right?" Her face was a sheet of ice he wanted to smash with his own two hands. Her voice was full of hate she had no right to hold. "If he hates me, I deserve it."

"Rei."  Eiji  couldn't stay blank anymore. His eyes had a helpless look to them, reaching out even as the rest of him tried to pull itself inward. "Rei, I didn't say that. I don't think that, I promise."

"I do," Ankh said, finally standing up on shaky, half-asleep legs. Without even thinking, he went over and put himself between  Eiji  and his sister. "I think you should get out, too. It's late, and  Eiji  has to take a shower before he's allowed in our room."

"Ankh..."  Eiji's  face was unreadable, but Ankh thought he saw a hint of another real smile, tugging at his lips.

"You're an honest person, aren't you? I can appreciate that, I suppose," Rei said. She began digging through her small purse. "Fine. I just came tonight to confirm you were here." She grabbed  Eiji's  hand and thrust a vaguely familiar white box into his hand. "I got you a phone. There are three phone cards in there, so don't think I'm tracing you or something."

"I don't need a phone, Rei."

"You can throw it away, of course. It cost $200, but I know that won't make a difference to you. I'll be here tomorrow morning, whether you use it or not. Whether you're here or not."

Ankh heard  Eiji  swallow, but his face was calm, in the way it used to get before fights.

"I'll be here," he said. She smiled with something that could almost be considered kindness.

"I'm glad. Goodnight,  Eiji ."

A bit of the storm came in when she opened the door, and when it fell shut, the storm stayed, smothering them both like heavy steam.  Eiji  was still for a long time, so still that Ankh was afraid to move him. He reflected and then became the sheet of ice his sister was, but it was still the warm season, and he was still frail. It was the sharp difference between ice and stone.

"Ankh."  Eiji's  cold fingers brushed his arm. He looked very tired. "I'm  gonna  take a shower."

"I'm going to bed, so don't turn on the light when you come back in."

"Okay."

But they didn't move until several moments after. Until neither of them could hear the storm.

  


0|0|0

Eiji  made sure the shower was scalding hot before he went in. Not because it hurt; it didn't, never had, for him. Rain just got to him that way, made him need something almost too warm to overwhelm the clammy chill. Rain did that, and so did Rei. 

 

He couldn't remember a time when she didn't scare him at least a little. She was always so serious, even when they were kids, and always so impatient with him. Getting her to smile was more of a treat than the candies and toys he was given when he behaved at events. No matter how hard he tried, candy could never be that warm. Or, he thought, watching his feet turn red, near that cold. It was that which frightened him from the time he could know what fear was. Was it because he knew that he was looking at his future?

 

No, he didn't have to become that, and neither did Rei. They were adults now, weren't they? If he lost his desire, and nearly his humanity, it wasn't his parents' fault. He didn't even see them enough for them to make an impression. Surely, those rarely-given smiles  were not enough to shape him into the vessel he was made into. Surely.

 

He would have to do something about the phone. If not throw it away, then maybe he could give it to someone who needed it. Someone who didn't know him very well, someone who couldn't be traced back here. Then... He would have to go,  for a little while. Just somewhere else, somewhere not too far away. He would take Ankh, and they would disappear until Rei gave up. Just the two of them. Safe.

 

The sound of the door opening nearly startled him into hitting himself on the showerhead. He heard it shut again, then the sound of Ankh rummaging through their tiny mirror cabinet for something.  Eiji  was pretty much done anyway, so he turned the water off and grabbed a towel to wrap around himself before he got out.

 

"What're you looking for?" Ankh hummed, quiet and subdued in a way he usually wasn't.

 

"She gave me that stuff for sleeping a while back ago, remember? Last I saw it you put it in here while you were cleaning."

 

"That was a year ago,"  Eiji  said, turning around to towel off his hair, though it wasn't really necessary. He and Ankh had lived together long enough that seeing each other naked was only mildly surprising. Though Ankh, of course, was much more modest about it than he was. "They're in the nightstand drawer. Why do you want them?"

 

"Can't sleep. There's nothing else to do, so  might  as well take one so that morning will come faster."

 

Eiji  suppressed a smile. It was such a childish way to think about sleep, and just like Ankh. He gently pulled Ankh's hand back, and shut the cabinet door.

 

"You shouldn't just abuse them like that, it's bad for you. And, well, I wouldn't get too comfortable, if I were you. We might be going somewhere tonight." Ankh turned to give him an ugly look.

 

"So you're running away?" he said, head cocked irreverently, but with an undercurrent of real anger that  Eiji  didn't understand. "From her?"

 

"It's not - "  Eiji  swallowed. He didn't want to have to explain this. He didn't think he ever would. "It's not running away.  We're just  laying low, for a while."

 

Ankh stepped forward, uncomfortably close and warm and knife-sharp in his bitterness. The door was open,  shower steam nearly gone , but he was still finding it a little hard to breathe properly.

 

"Are you that afraid of those people?" 'Those people', he said. Not  Eiji's  family. "What can they even do to you?"

 

"It's hard to explain. I guess... they can talk to me, and that would be enough. It would hurt enough to make being a coward worth it."

 

Ankh scrutinized his face for a long time, long enough that only the strange opaqueness of his expression kept  Eiji  from turning away. He wasn’t used to Ankh being hard to figure out.

 

"You can go be a coward by yourself," he said finally, with a nasty grin so familiar it was almost comforting. "I'm staying here. I'll let her know tomorrow that she's not welcome here. Pretty sure your boss agrees with me too."

 

Eiji's  nails dug into his palm. He took a deep breath. He was mad and he didn't know why, except that they just didn't  understand . Ankh, he could expect that from; Ankh never made the effort to understand anything that wasn't easily sorted out in his childish head. But  Chiyoko  should know, shouldn't she? That sometimes you just had to put up with people like Rei because they were family, even if it was only long enough to vanish from their sight once more. 

 

"Fine." He grabbed his towel from the floor, shaking it out before wrapping it back around his waist. "I won't leave. Just don't talk to her, okay? Please?" Ankh kept his eyes on him, nostrils flaring, throat moving as if to swallow down whatever he wanted to say. He took a step back, toward the door, and suddenly, he smiled, looking very tired. Right as it closed,  Eiji  thought he heard him speak, low, resigned. Later, he would question if he even heard it.

 

"Yeah. I won't try and be honest again."

 

He didn't remember about the book until long after Ankh had gone to bed. It was still too early for him, so  Eiji  did what he always did when he couldn't sleep, which was gather his laundry and go to wash it in the sink downstairs.  Chiyoko  always offered to take it home with her , but it was better to do it one at a time, he thought. It got them cleaner, and gave him time to think in a quiet place. Living with someone else, it was hard to do that, even when Ankh was asleep.

 

The book fell out when he went to grab the cargo pants he wore today, nearly falling into the water before he caught it. It was such a small, plain thing, barely twenty pages, if that. More a fairy tale than a novel. What was in here that could shake  Satonaka  like that? That only Ankh himself knew?

 

A closed box,  Kougami  had called it.  Like the one in the book of Greek stories his mother had given him, filled with every last good and evil thing on Earth.

0|0|0

In the end, Hino Rei didn't come back in the morning. When Ankh slid down from his couch at sunrise, Eiji was drooling on his own arm, a freshly activated phone laying next to his head, surrounded by packaging. His background was the so-called family photo Chiyoko had made him join in, Eiji and Hina's hands slipped into his, warm as the idiot grins they were giving the camera. Ankh's eyes were closed when it was snapped, and they wouldn't let him have a do-over, so it looked he had fallen asleep, and they were holding him up.

 

He showered and changed quietly, not willing to talk to Eiji again quite yet. It was a warm morning, so he left his overshirt off while he sat in the window and redid his braid, careful and patient. The first few weeks in his new body, Ankh hated doing this. It was hard to get it to look right on his own, and Eiji's giant ape hands always mangled it. He had to pull out a mirror from Chiyoko's storage before it became doable, but then, it was nice. A slow, delicate task to remind him of everything he had done to gain these thin, trembling fingers.

 

Eiji woke up only an hour after Ankh, making him look up sharply from his tablet when an unsettlingly loud groan rose from his bed. He sat up slowly, blinking into the sunlight, smiling in a warm, stupid way. His blanket slid from his shoulders, and Ankh found his eyes tracing the muscles of his stomach, the line of his hipbones. There was just enough baby fat to make him soft there, the same delicate roundness that filled out his mouth and face. It was nice to look at, he thought, before he could stop himself.

 

"Ah, Ankh," he said on a yawn. "What time is it?"

 

"Too early for Chiyoko to be here. Go back to sleep." Eiji frowned.

 

"It's Monday anyway, isn't it? She won't be here at all."

 

So you should definitely go back to sleep," Ankh said. But Eiji was already out of bed, pulling down a shirt and pants that he'd apparently hung on the top bunk's rail to dry. "You better not have done any of my laundry like that, by the way."

 

Eiji gave him a shrug and a smile, which he decided meant that he hadn't, because he didn't want to have Chiyoko iron his shirts again. Ankh let himself watch him for a few more moments, indulging in fire-bright affection until a familiar ache wormed its way between his ribs. He shut his eyes against the urge to reach for Eiji's graceless hands.

 

"I can't go back to sleep now that you've woke me up," Eiji said with a careless grin, as he pulled on a pair of of flower-printed socks. "Hey, since we're off, why don't we do something?"

 

"Do something? Like what?"

 

Eiji lay back up on the bed and picked up his new phone, absently flicking through it. "We could take a walk, maybe."

 

"It's supposed to rain." Eiji rolled his eyes, as if he didn't even consider that an obstacle. "When since do you want to do anything on your days off, anyway?"

 

"You act like I'm lazy or something. Maybe I just want to spend time with you."

 

Ankh's spine went tense, and he knew Eiji saw it. "Since when do you want that?"

 

Eiji rolled over to look at him, his face patient and kind. His hair was sweat-slick and messy, his chin dark with stubble. Ankh wanted to touch him, to press his face into his neck and take in his scent. He wanted, much to his chagrin, to kiss him.

 

"We're not taking a walk," he said, grabbing his jacket from the couch. "You're taking me to get new clothes like you said you would over a month ago. And you're shaving before we go."

 

Eiji laughed. "Fair enough."

 

 


	4. der Kuss

The mall was crowded for a Monday, or so Eij said. Ankh took his word for it. He'd only been here once, back when Hina found out that he stole most of his clothes, which was apparently bad. The only thing he remembered about that day was a small girl coming up to him and calling him pretty, holding out a hair clip with a rose on it. Her mother swept by soon after that, scolding her girl and apologizing to Ankh, as if he'd been insulted. The hair clip was the only thing he stole that day. 

"It's because school is starting back soon," Eiji said after they dodged their third giggling woman-pack. "We can go somewhere else, if you want." 

"It's fine." Ankh slinked into a shoe store, pulling Eiji with him by the back of his shirt. To his credit, he didn't stumble. "Hey, buy me new boots." 

"Just try them on first, okay?" 

He did, and Eiji bought them, along with everything else Ankh asked for. Shirts, jeans, belts, even a new hairdryer. Underwear, of course, which he insisted on picking for him. By lunchtime, he'd made getting Eiji to buy him things into a sort of game. He dragged him all over the food court, getting small things from each stand until he had a full tray, then taking him outside to eat it. It was humid and windy, but Eiji didn't complain, just watched him and smiled while he stuffed his face with cheap mall food. He didn't really like it, but that wasn't the point. 

"The hell are you smiling at?" Ankh said finally, dropping his half-eaten piece of probably-chicken back on the tray. Eiji just smiled wider. 

"I'm glad you're eating real food, for one," he said. "Not one of those is ice cream." 

Ankh clicked his tongue. "The ice cream stand had a line." 

Eiji gave a kind of fake-sympathetic smile, laughter, clearly at his expense, dancing behind his eyes. Ankh couldn't even bring himself to be offended. Having that kind of look pointed at him made his chest tighten and heat travel up his neck, into his cheeks. It wasn't fair that one person had the power to do that to him, he thought. 

"Hey. Stop that." 

"Stop what?" Eiji looked genuinely confused, which was both annoying and very good. 

"You know," Ankh said, sinking back against his chair a little. "Smiling like that. It's weird." 

"You think?" He was still smiling, damn him. 

"Yeah, I do, so stop. And take me home, it's gonna start to rain again soon." 

To his credit, Eiji only gave him one more of those dumb grins before stooping to gather Ankh's bags. He hummed quietly as he led him across the parking lot, both of them scanning the sky for the direction and speed of stormclouds. Eiji was the one who taught him how to do that, sitting him at their little window, counting the seconds between distant flashes of lightning and the low thunder that followed. A beam of yellow-white cut through the clouds ahead, making Ankh jump before he could stop himself. He felt a hand at the small of his back. 

"You okay?" Eiji asked. Ankh jerked away, making an effort to roll his eyes. 

"I'm fine! Now hurry up, if you keep stopping like this we're gonna get caught in it." 

"It might be too late already." Eiji was counting out seconds on his fingers, and right before he got to eight, a sharp crack filled the sky, and this time he was the one to start and grab Ankh's arm, as if he was getting ready to pull him back. He felt a drop of wetness hit his nose, and a second later, it was pouring. Making an inarticulate noise of frustration, he grabbed Eiji by one of his heavily-laden arms and began jogging to where he guessed the nearest dry spot was. 

In this case, it ended up being a bus shelter about three blocks away, and they were soaking wet by the time they got there. Ankh sank on to a dry patch of bench and glowered at Eiji, who just sat the bags down next to him and settled on the other side. His face was flushed, and Ankh knew it couldn't be just from running over here.

"It's just rain," he said quietly. Eiji flinched a little, trying very quickly to smile. 

"It startled me, like it did you. That's all. The storm came on faster than the weather said it would." 

"Hm." Ankh didn't really believe him, but he hated the look on his face enough not to pursue it. For the next several moments, maybe several minutes, they were quiet, listening to rain beat down on the plastic roof, watching it melt old event posters off the side. A bus came and went, Eiji waving it away, explaining to him that the storm would be short enough for them to walk home as soon as it cleared up. Ankh pulled out his phone to try and confirm that, but he didn't have enough reception. 

He went to put it up, and Eiji grabbed his right hand, covering it with both of his hands, like wings shielding a chick. They were rough and warm. Eiji's shoulder brushed against his as he pulled Ankh's hand into his lap, smiling at him like what he was doing wasn't weird at all. 

"Your hands are freezing." He cupped his hands and blew heat over Ankh's fingers, either not noticing or ignored how much they trembled in it. "When fall starts we're gonna have to get you some gloves." 

"They're not that cold." But he didn't move, and if his body grew a little closer to Eiji's, it was only gravity. If Eiji's thumb stroked his palm, he was only trying to keep it warm. 

"Hey, Ankh?" 

"Huh." He didn't realize his eyes were closed until he opened them and Eiji was right there, inches from his face. It took a lot of effort not to give into the instinct to pull away. 

"Can I kiss you?" 

He could feel Eiji's breath, could trace the soft shape of his mouth. 

"I guess." 

Eiji's lips were chapped. He squeezed Ankh's hand, pulled it to his chest, as if trying to press him into his heart, like a medal. Ankh wished he could, wished he could sink into him and be forever warm. He settled for making a fist against him, feeling Eiji's faint heartbeat through layers of clothes and skin. Eiji made a noise into his mouth, he opened it, and sighed, shivering when he felt Eiji's breath sliding down his throat. When Ankh pulled back, Eiji leaned forward, kissing his cheek before he let him go. He shivered again, not at all cold. 

"Hey," Eiji asked, touching his shoulder. "Are you okay? Was that okay?" 

Ankh laughed, surprised at how easy it was to smile. 

"Yeah," he said. "I feel great." 

o|o|o 

They were both quiet, after that. When the sun finally pressed its way through the rain to cast yellow lines across Eiji's face, he stood up and smiled, pulling Ankh along with his bags. He kept Ankh's hand all the way home, holding him loose and comfortable, the certainty with which he looked ahead warming Ankh through to his clay-red bones. It was hard to remember the last time Eiji had faced the future with such a face; carefree, and in a real way, too.   
He held his breath before opening the door, but the restaurant was empty, and blessedly silent. Ankh could see Eiji releasing the same tense breath, his body becoming the loose thing it was at home, and only at home. There was a laziness to him when no one was watching. He let his face rest in frowns, sighed and rolled his shoulders without grace. He was beautiful, this Eiji. 

"Ah," he said once they got back to their room. "Chiyoko texted me." 

Ankh flopped down on Eiji's bed, only barely giving him time to get out of the way. "What she want?" 

"She thought of some more things we needed for Fairy Tale Week tomorrow." Eiji looked back at the phone's screen. "I should probably go now, before all the stores close. You wanna come?" 

"Need a shower," Ankh said. "And it's gross out right now." 

Eiji smiled indulgently, and Ankh's chest ached with memory; of hurting, of helplessness. He rolled over to face the wall, willing it away. 

"I'll be back in a while, then. Will you plug up my phone? The battery died while we were gone." 

Ankh lifted his heavy hand to wave vaguely at him. Eiji pressed the phone into his palm, giving it a gentle squeeze before he let go. His hand was warm, and a little rough, and that warmth lingered, even several minutes after he'd gone downstairs. 

He changed the phone's background before he plugged it up, going through pictures on Google until he found something suitable, or at least artsy enough for Eiji to want to keep it. He settled for a photo of a hawk diving, buried in sunset lens flare and filters, just clear enough for the scent of wind to follow him when he closed his eyes. 

Satisfied, Ankh reached over to find the cord, shifting the mattress back to reveal a little white book. He yanked it loose, tearing it a little, smoothing the wrinkled pages on his lap to show the true shape of the thing on the cover. __Bird, it said, in stark black. Just bird.  
Ankh watched it for a moment, tracing the lines of the word with his fingers, letting them drift in and out of focus until it had no meaning. It wasn't hard. This language and its shapes were never his in the first place. He closed his eyes. 

He didn't notice the phone ringing until he sat back down on the bed. It vibrated through his hand, tickling his fingertips until he found where it had slid under the pillow. An unknown number, but it was a new phone, and Ankh couldn't remember Chiyoko's number at all. He answered it. 

"Eiji?" Hino Rei. His nails dug into the edges of the phone case. 

"No." 

A measured silence on the other end. He could hear her counted breaths as she waited for more. 

"Where is he?" she asked. "Did you take his phone?" 

"He's out. I don't know why you would care, since you didn't even bother to come today." 

She paused for several moments. 

"Something... came up. I was calling to tell him I'll be here tonight." 

"Don't," he said. "You're making him act weird and it's starting to annoy me." Hino Rei laughed. 

"You know, I was wondering why he looked so happy last night, and now I think I know. Seems he's found a new pet project." 

"Pet?" Ankh's mouth felt dry. "What the hell do you mean?" 

"You seem naïve, so I'll give you some advice. My brother is a nice person, but that's all he knows how to be. He's not happy unless he's helping some poor soul with their problems. Whatever might be wrong with you, once you're all better, he'll be off finding himself some other worthy cause." 

He wanted to throw the phone. He wanted to break it, to stomp on her money and her voice until she was erased. He wanted her here, so he could hit her, because he knew she was right. 

"If you come back here," Ankh gasped out, slowly. "You'll regret it." 

"I'll be there at ten." And she hung up. He threw the phone anyway, it slid under the nightstand, hit the wall with a discreet thud. It didn't make him feel better. Instead, he felt afraid, he felt on the edge of something, reaching out to touch it, even as instinct told him to recoil. He picked up the book. 

__The bird is the cleverest among them, and thus the most dangerous...


End file.
